Storytelling
by Tutankhamunfreak
Summary: In a dreary house, in a street full of thieves and beggars, one little boy falls asleep to the tale of a Prince... One shot.


**This is not a run of the mill Harry Potter/Merlin fic. This was kind of random and may be a prelude to another Harry Potter/Merlin crossover that I am planning and is in the works. I'm just curious as to the reception that this will have.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin. Sadly, HP belongs to JK Rowling and Merlin belongs to the BBC (sigh).**

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The house at the end of the road was surprisingly quiet. Those who lived in the area had breathed a sigh of relief when the occupants had left for the night somewhere (hopefully for divorce papers). Little did they know, however, that fate was already setting itself up right there for the night.

The house had only recently become a war-ground to the couple who lived there. Those who knew them would have said that they were actually very happy, up until four years ago, when something had happened. They didn't know what they just knew that something had gone wrong. They would have been surprised to discover that there was actually a third occupant within the house. And the third occupant was a small child. The small, neglected child of the couple who lived there.

Within the small household, the little boy was currently being tucked in by a young man who had been paid to look after him for the night. The little boy didn't seem to mind, in fact, he had claimed that this was the best night of his life. And now he was starting to nod off to sleep.

"Can you tell me a story?" the little boy murmured sleepily. The young man blinked and then smiled. He settled himself on the floor (the young man was very tall and the bed was little more than a mattress on the floor) and began a story.

"Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was small and pale and his parents were always fighting," the young man began.

"Just like me!" the little boy exclaimed, suddenly roused from his sleepy state.

"Yes, like you," the young man said with a secretive smile. A flash of gold seemed to erupt in the young man's fathomless blue eyes. "But this little boy found solace in a small playground. This playground was visited by children from the estate he lived on and another, better estate next to his. And in this playground there were always two little girls, one of which who was the same age as the little boy. And the little boy knew straight away that this little girl was like him. She was magical too."

"Was she a Muggle-born? Mummy says that they don't know they're special like I do," the little boy asked, settled back in the (slightly dirty) pillows on his 'bed'. The young man frowned slightly.

"Yes, she was born in a non-magical family. Now, the little boy took to watching the girl because she enchanted him. She was always so polite and sweet to everyone she met, unlike her sister who was rude and cruel to everyone she deemed below her."

"That's mean!"

"Yes, she was. She was always jealous of her younger sister who was nicer and better-looking than she was with brilliant red curls and sweet green eyes. One day the little boy found the courage to tell the little girl that she was special. That she was a witch. However the elder sister didn't like the little boy because his parents didn't have the money to buy him properly fitting clothes or some of the basic necessities like soap at times. So she told her sister to leave him alone.

However the elder sister was foiled as the next day her little sister sought out the boy and soon the pair became very good friends. The little girl invited him to her house and for a few years the little boy was happy because he had somewhere to go and people who cared about him. Then they both got their letters to Hogwarts."

"Mummy went to Hogwarts!" the little boy cried then frowned. "Did you?" The young man smiled secretively again, his eyes dancing in amusement.

"No. I was… ah… home-schooled."

"Oh." The little boy looked thoughtful. "What happened next?"

"Well everything was all right, apart from the two sisters falling out over the fact that the elder wasn't allowed to go. But when they reached Hogwarts the little girl was sorted into Gryffindor while the boy, who was a born survivor, was sorted into Slytherin." The little boy let out a gasp.

"But that means they can't be friends anymore! Mummy says that Slytherins and Gryffindors are always fighting!" The young man shook his head, smiling.

"No, they didn't part until their fifth year. The girl and boy tried to stay best friends for as long as possible. It helped that they both lived close together during the holidays. But there were others who didn't approve of their friendship. There were two boys in Gryffindor who didn't like the little boy and teased and bullied him throughout his time at Hogwarts. In their fifth year, one of these boys thought it would be funny to hang the boy upside down and take off his trousers. The girl disagreed but in his anger and frustration at the entirety of the student body the boy pushed her away. The girl never forgave him but the boy never forgot her."

"Did he love her?" The little boy was fast falling asleep. The young man smiled softly.

"Yes. Even when the girl had grown up and married one of his tormentors and had a son he still loved her. And he loved her even after she died."

"Is that it?" the little boy mumbled into his pillows.

"No," the young man said, leaning over the boy. "I'll tell you the rest later."

"Goodnight Martin."

"Goodnight Severus." Martin closed the door behind him with one last flash of golden eyes.


End file.
